Eternal

It’s time.

It’s time to pierce this bland shroud,

this heavy and impermeable sense

of being held down,

of having an internal weight

that droops my efforts ever toward inertia,

proclaiming all that's good must end

while what is bad will rumble on forever

Every live thing testifies otherwise:

Every green shoot pushes up and out

against its boundaries,

reveling in strength

turning the downward pull

into its springboard

in its eternal act of living power

Every sentient being

delights in helping others,

in striking up the magic multiplying

chords of giving joy

that flow in sweet increase from hand to hand,

that sing forever down the grateful land.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 19, 2015